Be Good, Doctor
by Books In the Blood
Summary: The Doctor has been good for a long time. But that's not who he is deep down inside and he's tired of pretending. He's ready to be himself and no one can stop him. But Clara believes deep down there's still a good Doctor inside of him and she's determined to find it. Dark!Doctor
1. She Got in the Way

**Hey guys! I had originally thought of this as simply a one shot but if you guys like it I think I can make it a series of one shots. So if you'd like to see me continue this, please let me know :) Thanks for reading. **

Blood was an awful, wonderful thing; he'd almost forgotten how truly fantastic it was. He had almost forgotten the way that his own blood pumped through his veins, wove through his two hearts at rapid speed when he saw someone else's. He'd forgotten the wonderful way it ran down pale skin or dripped onto someone's clothes, leaving a scarlet stain that did not come out, reminding the owner of the mark that prompted it. It had always been there, that throbbing, probing feeling in the corner of his mind; even when he had been in the height of his 'goodness' seeking only to help those weaker than him he had felt that deep, dark desire to wrap his fingers round someone's throat and drain the life out of them or slice their skin and make that crimson tide flow. But, he had tried to be _good._ He had always been, essentially, evil. It would take someone truly malicious and vile to destroy their own people. Sure, some would say it was the only option; that to destroy true evil he had had to kill his own people. But how many people could do that? How many _good _people could commit genocide to their own species even if it meant that it would end a devestatng war? The answer was no one; no one _decent _could.

He had always been that wicked but somewhere along the line he had been convinced to be something else. He had had companions, humans; they were so young, so innocent…..so naïve. They had convinced him for a time to bury that dark and dangerous part of him. He was a lonely monster and he just wanted a companion, someone to stave off the emptiness. There were moments he would begin to lose that goodness, when his true self would begin to shine through. His companions would then look at him in such horror, with such revulsion that he feared they might leave. So, he would reign in the monster; he would push down that desire for the red, sticky stuff that would so freely flow from those weaker than himself. It would be so easy to make that crushing desire happy, so easy to see the blood that burned in his mind's eye. But if he did he knew that they would leave and it was easier with them. So he became someone else for their sake. Because he didn't want to be alone.

But then he _was _alone. The weeping angels had stolen the last of his companions and that was it. The last straw…he had been alone for decades, centuries. It had made him more than hard; he had found that part of himself that he thought he had buried for good that. He had been reacquainted with the feeling of excitement that made his hearts flutter and a sneer form on his lips as he saw that amazing crimson again, the feeling of heady power that came with knowing it was his doing. He'd lived that way for a long, long time, on his own. He didn't think that he change back to the way he had been, the way that had earned him companions. And he was very right.

The Doctor watched the thin stream of blood as it reached the tip of Clara's nose and dripped off, leaving those stains, those memories on her white blouse. He leaned on the console and simply watched her, feeling more and more power from every drop of blood that spilled from her body. All his doing; as she cowered in the corner, curled up and watching him, instead of feeling that need to hide himself he was proud of his actions. Let her cry; she deserved it.

Clara sat in the corner and watched the Doctor, leaning on the console, his dark expression making her shiver. He looked so _pleased _with himself. It really was disturbing. She had known ever since the beginning that he was a troubled man; she had seen that flash of darkness, that hint of a monster behind the goofy childish expression that he normally wore. She hadn't known how deep that darkness went but she would never had thought that she would witness the darkness that she now saw on his face.

Something had changed a few weeks ago; Clara didn't know what had prompted it, but ever since then he had steadily begun to fall into a deeper hatred for everything around him, including her. He stopped eating, stopped sleeping; even traveling seemed to hold no appeal to him anymore. He would disappear for sometimes as long as a day at a time, leaving her stranded in the TARDIS. She never knew what he was doing or where he was anymore and she hadn't had the courage to ask him to take her home. Something was wrong with him and she had wanted to help; little did she know he didn't want any help. That fact was very obvious to her now; while she had gotten used to him snapping at her and his angry outbursts, she had never expected him to actually hit her.

She had been warned not to trust him; now she could see why. He was simply too damaged, too broken; he might not even be fixable at this point. Hurt rang throughout her heart when she looked at the Doctor who was sneering at her, just watching her as if she was some prize he was proud of. He was glad to see her pain, her hurt. Even with his sour attitude, she wasn't sure how this had happened; she simply must have not gotten out of the way in time. It had happened so quickly; he had been trying to get around her and she supposed that she hadn't moved out of the way quickly enough. He had smacked her in the nose, causing an instant sting and stream of blood. She had looked at him to see the anger and rage in his cold blue eyes and shrank back to her current spot.

Clara used the sleeve of her shirt to dab at the last of the blood running out of her nose; looking down at the shirt she could see it was already ruined. She used her other sleeve to wipe the tears from her eyes. She hadn't wanted to cry but it had taken her so by surprise and it hurt so badly (in more ways than one) that she couldn't stop.

The Doctor leaned back on the console, crossing his arms across his chest as he stared at her haughtily. As much as he enjoyed the sight of the burgundy liquid dripping from her sorrowed face, he couldn't stand the _crying. _It was starting to annoy him; he really had hardly touched her. And she was just being so _loud. _

"Oh please, Clara. Shut up" The Doctor said languidly. "I hardly touched you"

Clara looked up at him; her nose had stopped bleeding and tears were beginning to dry on her face though new ones were quick to accompany it. Betrayal flashed in her eyes but the Doctor couldn't care. He was _tired _of her. She made no motion to stop crying and the Doctor could feel his anger reignite.

"Really….if you're going to insist on blubbering like that, then go to your room or something" the Doctor said, shooing his hand toward the direction of her bedroom. "If you want to stay here, I can give you something real to cry about"

Clara paused, as if sizing up his threat. He could see a slight shiver run down her before she finally decided to trust his words and got up, taking off towards her bedroom. Something deep inside her urged her to stay, to try to do something for him. But the weaker part of her urged her to save herself. The tone in his voice was chilling and she thought it was best to not try and test him. She walked, almost ran toward her room; she found herself, for the first time ever locking the door behind before she collapsed on the bed.


	2. She Was Too Weak

"Doctor…..stop! You have to stop!" Clara urged. Her voice was frantic; there was a time that the Doctor might have listened to her, but those days had long since passed. As she begged him to stop, he didn't even look back at her. He leaned over the pale blue alien, murder and bloodlust in his eyes. A wicked smile curled on his lips as he dug the knife into a fresh spot on the man's arm. His screams made Clara cover her ears, chilling her to the bone as she watched a fresh open cut cause a new river of red to join the growing puddle on the floor.

"Please…..mercy! Have mercy on me!" The man begged, tears running down his face as he ended his screams. His voice was raw from the shouting and he looked so weak beneath the Doctor.

The Doctor smiled down at him, watching the long trails of blood run out of the numerous lines on the man's arms and make puddles of glorious red on the floor. He could smell the scent of blood in his nose, this alien blood smelling slightly different than any he had smelled before, making him heady with the power to gain more and more. There was a time the screams that he heard emitting from the disgusting filth would have caused him pain, would have caused him to stop. There was a time that he sought to save all life, even scum like this one. But that was long gone; that part of him was dead now and he sought his own justice now. This man was a killer, a pervert and he deserved every last bit of pain the Doctor could inflict on him. The Doctor and Clara had come to this planet to investigate a series of child abductions; through painstaking research they had been led to this man. He had kidnapped dozens if not hundreds of children and sold them into the sex slave trade; but not before he used them for his own purposes. The horror he had discovered upon finding those children made even his cold heart ache. Clara had been inconsolable; he couldn't understand how she now sought mercy for this terrible man. Her stomach was weak; she couldn't see what really needed to be done.

"Mercy? You want mercy from me?" The Doctor asked, his voice shaking with rage as he drug the blade of his knife over the open wounds on the man's arms, making him squeal. "How many of those children begged for mercy as you ripped them from their homes? How many of them begged for mercy as you raped them?!" The Doctor yelled into the man's face as he slammed the knife into the man's arm so deep his screams were ear shattering. Blood bubbled up from the cut and spilled out over both sides of his arms and made the puddles grow. It was a beautiful thing…..

Clara shuddered in the corner, trying to cover her eyes as she watched the Doctor mercilessly torture the man in front of her. She couldn't deny that this man deserved to be dealt justice; but this was not the way to do it. The man she had come to admire for his compassion for everyone was now administering a bitter justice to one had hurt those children in the worst way possible. She knew with certainty that she would see those children in her nightmares for years; the awful pain and suffering on their faces was tremendous. That was nothing to say of the children that they had not got to in time, the ones who forever be owned by another, battered like a piece of property. But as Clara watched the Doctor torture this man, she could see a darkness in him that she had not yet experienced. She knew if this continued the Doctor would murder this man. And she was not sure that was a sight she could ever bear, especially when coupled with the terror of the broken children in her damaged mind.

"Please don't do this…..Doctor" Clara begged. Her voice was quiet and almost childlike. She was begging for the strong, safe man he used to be.

The Doctor turned around to see Clara's crestfallen expression. Doctor had been his title for a great long time but for some reason, in this moment, it sounded not right coming from her wavering voice. "No amount of begging is going to save him" the Doctor said honestly to Clara. "Not his…..not yours. So you can stop asking"

Clara knew he was telling the truth; he was going to cut up this man, slice him up until his breath was gone. The realization of it made her breath catch in her chest, fear and disappointment crushing her. Clara turned and left the room, rapping her arms around her as she ran for the TARDIS, far away from the sight of the blood and soon to be murder that was about to be committed by her Doctor.

The Doctor watched with slight disgust as Clara ran from the room; he hadn't expected any less from her. She was a human; she was weak. It was not surprising, but he had hoped that after the horror she had witnessed that she would agree that only one thing could happen.

The Doctor looked down at the man who was whimpering and crying beneath him and began to laugh. His hearts were beating wildly and excitement filled him. This man had thought himself so powerful, so untouchable. Now he was sobbing, lying in a puddle of his own urine and blood, brought to his knees so easily by the Doctor. "It's not so much fun…..on this end of it, is it?" The Doctor asked, his voice taunting as he dug the knife in the newest wound he'd made. The man screamed again, the sound, as always, filling the Doctor with more and more power.

"Why don't you just kill me?" the man asked miserably, tears and mucus spread across his face.

The Doctor let out a bitter laugh as the memory of the children he'd seen earlier flashed through his brain. He was doing everything that they needed him to do; no one should commit such atrocities and get away with a simple death. "That would just be too easy" the Doctor drawled out, letting the knife drag from his arm, across his stomach and down below his belt, laying on an appendage he had used so poorly. "Those poor children didn't get off easily. Why should you?"

The Doctor pressed the tip of the knife into the delicate skin and the man whimpered. "Don't…..please don't" he begged shamelessly.

The Doctor simply laughed. "I hardly think you get to ask that of me" he said. "You see, I'm a Doctor. I can tell when someone has something that needs _removing_" he pressed in a little harder. "And considering you have absolutely no idea how to use this…..I, as physician, see that you need to have it removed. I will be….._kind _enough to do that for you"

He saw the look of horror cross the man's face for a second before it happened, as he realized there was no escape and the Doctor was serious. With a smile on his lips, the Doctor dug the knife in, relishing the loud screams that became louder and louder before dying off completely.


	3. She Said No, I Said Yes

There were still times that the Doctor would act like his old self. There was still the anger, still the barely concealed loathing for everything around himself (and even perhaps his own self) there but sometimes he would talk; he would be excited about something. Sometimes he still laughed. Clara enjoyed those times immensely; she could forget for a second that he was now a monster, someone that hurt her in more ways that she thought possible. For a few shining moments, he would be just the Doctor again as opposed to what he now seemed to be. These days, even calling him Doctor didn't feel right anymore; for his mission to help others all over the universe seemed to be a lost mission to him these days. But in those moments, it did seem he was he was the Doctor again.

They had been having one of those moments today; they had been reliving a trip they'd had months ago on the beautiful planet of Paradise. The planet had lived up to its name sake, but a series of humorous occurrences along the way had made it very memorable trip in all the wrong ways. They had been discussing whether or not to make a return trip there now; the Doctor had even _smiled. _Clara was feeling hopeful again.

As the Doctor had leaned in and placed a kiss on her lips, she had felt even more hopeful that he wasn't the scary man that had come to haunt her nightmares with the things she had seen him do lately. At first his hand on her cheek had felt soft, tender as his thumb ran across her skin. At first she had felt tense under the touch, expecting something rough and hard with how his manner toward her had been lately. But his hand so gentle on her face and his lips gliding on hers, she felt those barriers that she had been developing begin to fall away.

Her head was beginning to feel dizzy with the sensation, surprised when the Doctor pressed against her, her back pushing into the firmness of the console. It wasn't the first time that they had kissed, but it wasn't a common occurrence. She got that nervous flutter of energy in her stomach as he deepened the kiss, not aware of the turmoil going on inside him.

The Doctor didn't _do _affection; as a time lord, physical relations had not been nearly as important as they were to humans. Many of them seemed to throw theirselves at him with needless shows of affection but that was the way humans were; messy, needy and most often obnoxious. He just didn't share that need that they had so often had. That physical need had made itself known to him a few times in the past but it wasn't often. Most of the times that it had shown itself to him was when _she _had been traveling with him. That human who had originally fixed him, who had taken the broken pieces of war-torn him and had really made him _good. _He would feel that deep, burning flame of desire burn inside him at times but he had held back. He had never even let his lips touch hers and he regretted it deeply.

He had not felt that burn with anyone since; he had been more openly physical with Clara than other companions but that was because he was lonely and he didn't care about hurting anyone anymore. That was what had held him back from giving himself to _her._ He was sure that it would have destroyed her in the end. But he had lost her in the end anyway and he had learned through all these lessons that he needed to look out for only one person's needs; his.

But as he kissed Clara now, as his mouth claimed more of hers, he began to feel that flame inside of him spring up and begin to burn like a smoldering fire. His hearts were beginning to beat harder as his thoughts were slowing falling away and giving in to simply feeling. Chemicals that he so rarely felt were flooding through his body as he ran his cool tongue over Clara's warm one. She had hesitated at first but she was now giving into that sensation as well. Good; because while he had held himself back down in the past he had no intention of doing that now.

Clara felt her knees going weak as desire coursed through her blood and made her begin to ache. She didn't want to admit that something was wrong but slowly she could feel that something was beginning to not feel right. The Doctor grabbed her wrists and pushed them over her head and against the console. At first she had allowed this without question; but as his hands dug into her skin painfully she begin to feel red flags go off in her brain. As her arms were immovable and the Doctor was pressing himself against her, his actions becoming hard and fiery, she began to panic.

Clara moved her head to the side in an attempt to break the kiss. She felt a hard tug on the lips as the Doctor pulled back. He made no attempt to move away from her or to let go of her wrists. When he looked down at her, what she saw alarmed her. There was desire and passion in his cool blue eyes but there was also that dark shadow, the one he gave her when he yelled at her or hit her. It was that dark thing that was so new to his personality but very disturbing; it was the look of someone that thought they owned you. While she would love to say that the Doctor did not _own _her, she was in a very powerless state. As long as he had her in the TARDIS among the stars, there was little she could do. While he had once valued what she said, that was no longer the case.

"Stop" Clara gasped out. Her voice was raspy from the desire had rushed in but was quickly leaving and though she had hoped that it would sound strong, it sounded only weak.

The Doctor gave her a smirk. "And why would I want to do that?" he asked, pressing his fingertips deeper into her wrists. She was sure to have bruises tomorrow.

"I don't want to do this" Clara admitted, letting her head fall back on the console as the Doctor pressed himself ever closer to her. Her heart was beating hard as he leaned down over top of her, his face almost touching hers. This had started out so well; she'd almost thought things were going to be normal between them. But now, all she felt was fear.

The Doctor gave her a dark smile. "Sure you do…the way you look at me, flirt with me? I might have been a little clueless at times but even I noticed the way you were shamelessly throwing yourself at me."

Clara felt her face flush; she might have made an attempt to flirt with him at times. She was attracted to him, that wasn't much of a secret. But this didn't feel right; he didn't feel right. She tried to move her arms but she couldn't; the Doctor tightened his grip on her. "This doesn't feel right" Clara said, her voice thick, wondering as she looked into his dark face if there was even a point of arguing. "You're holding me down"

The Doctor smiled at her as he squeezed her wrists hard enough that she called out. Weak; it didn't take much to illicit a response from her. But that just made her more fun to play with. He could feel the thrill of the dark shadows inside him wanting to come out and play. He was definitely going to let them play; and they liked screams.

"Ah, don't tell me this hurts you" he taunted her. "Aren't you made of stronger stuff than this?"

Clara felt tears beginning to sting her eyes but she fought to keep them in; the last thing wanted to do was cry. She missed her energetic and childlike chinboy so much; now he was just a monster. The daggers in his told her nothing she said mattered and she felt herself give up. "Doctor…..please just don't do this" she said. She hadn't intended it to sound like begging but it did.

The Doctor leaned down, pressing more of his weight on her. Clara really had some nerve; after all her flirtations she wanted to still be the one to say no when it didn't suit her ?The Doctor decided it was time that she realized that not everything was about her and not every descion was hers. As he saw a tear escape her eye and roll down the side of his face, he felt his smile grow bigger; she was going to be easy to break.


	4. She is Mine

**Thanks to all of you that have been reviewing and reading my story :) Here's some more of our Dark! Doctor, though he's a bit kinder in this chapter!**

Clara jerked awake in bed, coming to sit bolt upright. She was, at first, greeted with darkness and she sought the light of the nightlight on her nightstand to comfort her. It had been a great long time since she had needed a nightlight but she had found herself deeply in need of not being in the dark during the night. Night was when the nightmares came for her, when the evils of the day time were relived over and over again.

Clara couldn't remember a night in the past few weeks that her sleep was calm and this night was no exception. Her dreams had been so vivid, so terrible that her body was in turmoil. Her heart was racing, her pyjamas sticking to her from the sweat pouring off her body; she gasped for breath and she felt that desperate sense of impending doom that always came from her night terrors. Her room seemed dark and cold and as she pulled the covers up to her chest as she sat up in bed, she felt very small and alone. From the fear and fatigue, she began to sob in the quiet of her room.

This was not an uncommon occurrence; as much as she hated to admit the fact, she ended up crying alone in the middle of the night most nights these days. She expected this night to be the same as the others, to cry alone until she tired out and went to sleep again. She didn't expect what happened that was different this night. She didn't expect that tonight would be one of the good nights.

Clara was sobbing quietly, her face in her hands when she heard the door of her room squeak open. She put her hands down and looked to see the Doctor at her door. He peaked in, his face uncertain before walking into the room. The look on his face was not the one that she had come to fear, the one of power and anger. His brow furrowed in…..concern? It had been a while since she had seen that look on his face that it surprised her.

"Clara? Are you…..alright?" he asked. His voice was quiet, ringing through the almost deafening silence of the room.

Though he seemed to be in one of his good moods, Clara's first instinct was to pull back and hide her weakness. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked over to the Doctor, hiding her emotions. "I'm fine" she lied, pulling the covers up higher on her chest, looking down at her lap.

The Doctor surveyed Clara's actions; she was clearly lying. He'd been working on the TARDIS console when he had heard her screaming in her sleep. It had not been the first time that he had heard her in the throes of a nightmare. It had never been a problem until lately; now it seemed that she was screaming and crying every night. He was curious to find out what had changed. When he had opened the door and found her sobbing, he felt an unfamiliar twinge in his hearts. It was a feeling that he used to feel a lot but it was one that he had become unaccustomed to lately.

"You were shouting in your sleep…..and now you're crying. Clearly you are not alright" The Doctor said, crossing the room and sitting down on the edge of Clara's bed. Clara looked up at him, her eyes sad and flashing with a slight fear as he scooted closer to her. "You were having a nightmare"

Clara nodded. "Yeah…..yes, it's just a nightmare. Really…it's nothing" she said, trying to brush it off. The last thing she wanted was to have him ask her about her nightmare; she couldn't tell him she would dream of him, the fear he inspired in others these days or the fear he inspired in her when he would hit her or grab her too tightly. She didn't want to admit he had that sort of power over her, that he hurt long after he had touched her. Besides, he wasn't angry and she didn't want to send him over the edge.

Clara was surprised when the Doctor reached out and took her hand between both of his. She looked into his eyes, which pierced into hers as if he could see into her soul. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it gently, then let it drop down between them, not letting go of it. "It's not nothing….anything that makes you scream like that is not nothing" he said, his voice gentle and kind. This was one of the times that made Clara believe in him still; sometimes he was still good. Sometimes he still cared and that was what gave her hope when things were not good.

"It's fine…..really, Doctor" Clara said, not wanting to have to describe the dream to him. She didn't want to tell him she had relived the making of the bruises she had on her arms, the ones that were fresh and still sore. She didn't want to tell him she could still see the anger in his eyes and feel his hands on her. Clara looked away so she didn't have to look into those piercing eyes.

The Doctor reached out and put his hand on her chin and made her look into his eyes. His face was calm and concerned "You've been having nightmares a lot" he said gently. "Is there something wrong? Can I do something?"

Clara bit her lip as she looked at him. She couldn't tell him that she had nightmares every night because of the horrible things she saw him do to others and because of how he so often hurt her. But she knew that by telling him that, she wasn't going to change his behavior; she'd begged him over and over again to change and it had done little to change his behavior. Mostly likely it would just cause a fight and that was the last thing she wanted when he was being so kind.

Clara gave him a small, sad smile as she squeezed his hand. "Can you stay with me? Just for a little while?" she asked hopefully, eager for the rare kind touch of the Doctor.

The Doctor gave her a wide, warm smile. "Sure…..of course I can" he said. Clara lay back down on the bed and felt the Doctor behind her. He slid under the covers, putting his arms around Clara and pulling her close to him, spooning her. Wrapped warm against the Doctor, his arms holding her, she could feel safe. It was not a feeling that she had often enough these days and Clara closed her eyes. Though it would normally have taken her a long time to go to sleep, she drifted often quickly with her Doctor next to her.

The Doctor could tell that Clara was hiding something from him; he could sense her fear and hesitancy. He thought about pushing the issue, making her talk. But she seemed so upset and fragile in that moment that he didn't want to press it. The Doctor watched Clara's chest rise and fall slowly as her breath evened out, signaling she had fallen asleep. He hugged her tighter to his chest, causing the straps on her nightgown to fall off of her shoulders and revealing the skin beneath. Her pale skin was dotted with dark purple and blue spots down up and down her arms. The Doctor let his fingertips drift over the terrible, beautiful marks; when had she gotten them? Something in the back of his mind whispered at him, told him that he had given her the marks but he didn't remember. He leaned down and let his lips touch the circles, getting the taste of her skin faintly on his tongue. Something about the marks were familiar; maybe he had made them. It created a weird sensation inside him; something uneasy churned. Guilt? Perhaps…it had been so long since he'd felt anything like that. But the marks were beautiful; they reminded him that she was his and that created a thrill so deep inside him he couldn't image leaving her without the marks. But for tonight, these would be enough. He pulled her sleeve back in place and lay down next to her, eventually feeling his own eyes drift off to sleep.


	5. She Didnt Listen

Anger boiled hot inside the Doctor as he marched back toward the TARDIS. The surrounding scenery should have been something to stop and stare at, something to admire. But the Doctor was so angry he couldn't pay attention to the bright green trees that lined the stone path and the sun that filtered through the branches and made patterns everywhere. All he could focus on was who those patterns fell on. Clara walked in front of him, hanging her head and staring at her feet as she walked. Occasionally she would glance back over her shoulder, just barely taking a glimpse of him behind her before she turned back around and began to walk faster. The way she held herself made it obvious that she knew how displeased he was with her.

And she well should be; he didn't know what she had been thinking. Clara had been traveling with him long enough now, had been marked enough by him that she knew not to defy him. Or at least he had thought that she had learned that by now. Her actions today showed that she had not learned to fear him the way that she needed to. He had given her a direct order and she had done the complete opposite. When danger had been surrounding them, he had told her to get out. He told her to do what they did best and run; she, however, had entered the hospital they'd been working at. As it burned, she had run back in to help those that were still inside. He had known that she wanted to and that's why he'd ordered her to leave. It was simply too dangerous; but she had decided to not listen to him.

Clara hung her head as she walked in front of the Doctor. He was mad, very mad and she could feel it. She kept glancing back at him as if she expected to see something other than pure fury on his face; that was a vain hope. When the Doctor got this angry he didn't come back; not until he'd inflicted some pain. Clara crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her feet as the worry began to rise in her. She knew she would pay for this and normally she didn't try the Doctor's anger. But this time she hadn't been able to resist. As she had ran out of the building she had heard the screams of the children that were still trapped inside. She couldn't walk out of the building and leave them behind to burn. So often now it seemed that they left people behind; Clara could still remember a time when the Doctor had vowed that 'we don't leave anyone behind' but now it seemed commonplace. This time, hovered, she simply couldn't do it no matter how she suffered for it later. Though the Doctor could leave innocent people behind to die and not seemed phased by it, she could not. She had enough demons in her head that she didn't need to add any more to it today.

Clara could see the TARDIS, gleaming blue in the shining light and felt her heart sink. There was a time that she would have seen the TARDIS as a welcome sight; now was not that time. She knew nothing good was going to happen when they got inside the TARDIS; he never hit her where anyone else could see.

The Doctor was shaking with anger as he saw the TARDIS came into view. Clara hesitated in front of him, her hand stuck on the door. She was no doubt trying to delay the inevitable and he didn't appreciate it. He grabbed her by the arm with one hand and pushed the door open with the other, pushing Clara inside. She stumbled in through the door and turned around to look at him. There was a hint of fear on her face but not the normal amount distress that he saw. There was something else there; determination. Not only had she directly disobeyed something he had ordered her to do, she was not sorry about it. He'd have to make sure she soon felt differently.

"Clara…..what were you thinking?!" the Doctor asked, turning angrily towards her. "I told you to leave that hospital and you directly disobeyed me. Why?"

Clara looked back at the Doctor, trying to face him with firmness; she knew what she had done was right whether he approved of it or not. "There were kids in there, Doctor. I could hear them screaming for help. I couldn't just leave them" she said, her voice strong but shaking slightly at the end.

The Doctor scowled at her, clearly angry. "Yes you could because I told you to" he said, his own voice shaking but for a different reason. He crossed the small space between the two of them and grabbed Clara on the wrist, holding onto her hard. "When I tell you to do something, you better do it" He looked into Clara's eyes, his own as hard as his cold voice. She knew he was serious; she'd learned that lesson before. But that didn't mean she was going to back down either. She knew she'd done the right thing.

"I wasn't going to let those kids die" she said, her voice rising with conflict, looking up his angry eyes. Her voice was louder and more defiant than she had used in a good while and she didn't care what he thought. "This time you were wrong"

Clara was not surprised when she felt the Doctor's hand connect with her face. Her cheek stung hot where he'd slapped her but she resisted the urge to scream. Feeling an uncharacteristic burst of fight in her Clara tried to pull away from the Doctor and storm out of the room before he could hit her again. But the hold that he had on her wrist was so tight that she couldn't break free. As she turned around to run from the room, the Doctor gripped her wrist and wrenched her back hard. She felt something snap painfully in her wrist and felt it hang loosely in his hand, tears coming to her eyes as she screamed, the pain too much to hold in. Her wrist was on fire and she whimpered in pain but he didn't let go. Tears blurred her eyes as he looked up into his eyes, afraid of what she might see. Darkness clouded the Doctor's eyes but there was something else there, something that wasn't normally there.

"I was _not_ wrong" He said, his voice shaking in rage. "The situation was too dangerous…you could have died. The main responsibility, my main responsibility, was getting you out. Everything else was irrelevant. When I tell you to do something, it's important" He gave her a hard look as he let go of her aching wrist and pushed her away from him. He turned his back to her and though she felt like she should stay, the fearful part of her took off toward her room, holding her most likely broken wrist to her chest.

The Doctor shook with anger as Clara bolted from the room; stupid, childish selfish girl! Didn't she have even the faintest idea of why he did what he did? He didn't make up rules simply for his own gain. He did it all for her, to protect her and she had to be so selfish as to completely disregard that and go back into the building when it could have meant her death. The Doctor raked his hands through his hair, sighing as his anger melted away into something else. Fear; he'd been fearful today and that was not a feeling he was happy with experiencing. It had seemed like years from the time Clara had run back into the burning building to the time that she had come back out, several children trailing behind her and a baby in her arms. There was a time that it would have sent a shiver of pride through him to see it, but this time it simply made him mad. He was angry at her for making him feel such fear and completely ignoring what he told her.

The Doctor paced around the room, feeling angry and upset and a whole mess of other things he couldn't identify. He didn't know what to do with all of these feelings and he found himself marching down the hallway toward Clara's room. Without any pretense he opened the door and walked in. Clara was sitting on the bed and she jumped slightly when he barged in. He saw her flinch, holding her wrist with her other hand. Good; now she was showing some proper fear. Maybe she had realized what was wrong with what she had done.

Clara felt a tremor of fear run through her when the Doctor barged through her door. His face was angry and she still saw fire in his eyes. She had hoped that he was done but it was obvious that he wasn't. Clara cradled her wrist to chest; it was swollen and extremely painful. She forced herself to not look as weak as she felt. She still was firm in the belief that what she had done was right but if the Doctor was back for more punishment then this wasn't not going to be pleasant.

"Doctor? What is it?" she asked, her voice mostly steady as she looked up at the Doctor.

He narrowed his eyes down at Clara before moving over to her quickly. He wrenched her broken wrist away from her, taking his in his hand, earning a gasp of pain from Clara. "I'm angry at you, Clara…very angry" he said, pulling her by the wrist, watching the tears pool in her eyes. "You didn't listen to me and it could have gotten you killed! Don't you bloody know that? You forced me to stand outside that hospital and be fearful and I hate that. Don't ever do that again…..you ever do that to me again and I can guarantee it will be the last time. You understand?" he asked, his voice hard and commanding, his strong hold still on her wrist.

The pain in Clara's wrist was almost unbearable but she couldn't help but feel some hope at the Doctor's words. So this was the real issue here; yes, maybe he was upset that she hadn't obeyed him, but the real issue was he was scared. She had scared him by running into a fire; and if he was scared that meant he cared about her. Even though he had a tough, unbreakable outer shell now there was still two beating hearts inside that beautiful skinny time lord and some part of those hearts still cared about her.

But Clara wasn't going to say any of that; it might make him angrier. She didn't need him to say he cared about her; his words and her knowledge of what they meant was enough. "I understand" Clara said, looking into his eyes with regret. "I'm sorry I made you worry. And I'm sorry I did what you told me not to do"

The Doctor paused for a long time, but after an agonizing minuet, his face turned in a small smile. He let go of Clara's wrist and sat down on the bed across from her. He didn't say anything as he leaned forward and began to undo the buttons on her sweater. The Doctor could hear a small intake of breath from Clara.

"Shhh…" he said quietly, assuring her that this time there was nothing to worry about. He pulled the sweater gently off of her shoulders. He picked up her hand and examined her swollen and bruised wrist. He picked up his sonic and ran it gently across her wrist. Clara could feel the pain in her wrist lessen though it would still take some time to heal. The Doctor repaired what he could with the sonic and brought Clara's wrist to his lips. He placed a kiss to her injury as he looked up in her eyes. "I forgive you" he said, his angry voice gone and replaced with one more like the old him.


	6. She Tasted Good

He'd wondered what it had tasted like, more times than he cared to count. He had drawn it several times recently, watching it's sometimes slow and sometimes fast decent down her creamy skin. That alone was fascinating enough; to watch it pulse from her veins and spill out onto her flesh, knowing he'd been the one to spill it. The noise it inspired was wonderful as well; sometimes he'd hear her scream, her voice ripping from her loud and desperate. Sometimes she would whimper, a small and vulnerable sound as she tried to hold in her pain. Another amazing thing about it was the scent; hot and metallic, full of iron and sugar and hormones that would go through his nose and straight to his brain. It would make it difficult to think, difficult to do anything but simply _feel. _In those moments he'd wondered desperately what it had tasted like. But she would often be curled up or hunched over in pain and defeat and he'd leave her that way. Not this time; this time, not only was her red essence spilling out onto her skin but she was allowing him gladly to it.

Today was a good day, one of the best Clara remembered for a good long while. After landing on a beautiful beach covered planet, the Doctor had worked with some locals who needed help repairing their space ship. It hadn't taken very long and they had spent the rest of the afternoon walking barefoot along the beach, the waves crashing over the skin of their feet and cooling them in the heat of the sun. Clara could still feel the sand between her toes, the sweat of the outdoors still wet in the hair on the back of her head. The Doctor had come up behind her, surprising her as he slipped his arms around her gently and pulled her into a hug. He'd laid his head on her shoulder and began to sway to the music that had begun to play in the TARDIS (Clara had always known the ship was sneaky). Clara had moved with him, enjoying the way she could feel his breath hot on her neck as he swayed with her. Her heart had begun to speed up every time she'd felt that hot little puff of air on her skin. When she'd felt his lips on her neck, it had taken her breath away. Her pulse began to beat harder in her neck, right where the Doctor's lips touched her. His hands had moved up and down her arms, giving her shivers through her jumper. She had turned so that she was facing him and let her lips meet his; this time he didn't have to push.

Again she'd ended up leaning up against the console; in less than a minute, she was sitting on top of button and levers, ignoring the discontented beeps of the ship in response. Desire coursed through her as his arms went around her, his nails skating across the skin of her back, the fabric of her shirt suddenly seeming to be a terrible hindrance. The Doctor's lips had moved along hers quickly, his teeth nipping occasionally. A sigh broke free from her when his lips moved away from hers and went to the sensitive skin on her neck; it turned into a gasp as she felt teeth bite and pull. It was hard enough to draw blood and though she thought about trying to stop him, she found that this time she didn't want to. Her head was swirling with the hormones and though it did hurt, a lot, it wasn't the same kind of pain. It was somehow a sweet pain, one she found herself enjoying.

The Doctor had not meant to bite hard enough to draw blood; his head was beginning to cloud the way that it did when his body began to be taken over by urges and the need for sensations and sometimes he got rough. He liked the way her skin felt between his teeth, the slightly sweet taste of her skin against his tongue. But this time he must have pulled a little too hard, bit a little too deep. He'd pulled back slightly at the sound of her gasp, one of mixed pain and pleasure. That's when he'd seen the small dot of red that was beginning to pop out of her skin. He watched it bead up on her skin, becoming a rounder and rounder dot before it gained enough volume to begin to run down her skin. It was such a small bit of blood but he still could smell it, _feel _it in his nose. It was a glorious, intoxicating scent, made even more incredible than usual by the high levels of hormones in her blood. He hesitated for a moment as he watched the blood run, taken away by the scent but was quickly brought aware of Clara's hands tight on his jacket, preventing him from moving away. He needed no coaxing.

The Doctor moved in again, his lips meeting her neck. His tongue protruded from his mouth and found the spot where the blood had stopped. He licked up along the path the blood had taken, relishing every morsel of it. It was everything he thought it might be; it was sweet, sweet as honey with touches of metallic hardness to it. The more it drifted along his tongue the more he sought. His tongue met the small, barely visible cut in the skin where it had originated and the Doctor put his lips over it, sucking for every last bit of the red nectar. Clara gasped as he pulled at the skin; one of her hands knotted in his hair, pulling hard enough to cause his scalp to be sore, her other hand tugging on his bowtie, ensuring that he wasn't going anywhere.

The Doctor sucked on the spot until it was red and sore, looking for it but the wonderful taste of Clara's life force was gone. He thought briefly about biting deeper into the skin to coax more of the delicious liquid to the surface; the way Clara was pulling on his hair, digging into his scalp as she moved her body against his in the most delicious of ways was enough to make him lose what little resolve he had left. He bit down on the irritated skin, earning a wonderful moan from Clara as a few more dots of blood flowed from her skin onto his lips, tasting sweeter each time it came to him. As he licked the blood from her velvety skin, he felt her mouth skirt along his ear, teasing him with her hot breath against him. It sent a shudder through him he couldn't stop and he ached for her lips on his skin as he tasted the previously forbidden part of her.

"You taste so good" he breathed heavily against her neck, his voice low and husky. He pulled her tighter to him, as tight as he could with their layers of clothing in the way. He'd see to it that those were not hindering them for too much longer but right now he didn't want to rush this moment.

Clara felt herself tremble under the Doctor's touch and at his breathy tone of voice. It was a strange thing, it should bother her; but it didn't. Though it hurt, Clara felt the desire rise in her to give him more of what he wanted. Wasn't it always so with them?

Clara placed her lips even closer to the Doctor's ear, a smile on them. "Want some more?" she asked, her own voice low and betraying her level of desire as much as her fragrant human hormones were.

In a second, somehow he found himself on top of her lying on the floor. Those bothersome clothes are still terribly in the way but he finds his bowtie lopsided, his jacket rumpled and her skirt pulled up much higher, revealing more and more skin. The Doctor looked down at Clara, her hair splayed out around her head like a halo, a smile on her lips as she looked up at him. _Oh this is good…_He felt a tremor run through his body at her words. She was not only his, but very willingly so. He stilled his primal urges, the one causing his trousers to seem so terribly tight now, as he sought to feed the other urge inside him. The one that tortured him at night, the one that called to him desperately when he tried to bury it; the urge for blood.

The Doctor smiled down at Clara, his hands on either side of her face. "Yes I do" he cooed as he grinned ear to ear. "My Impossible Girl…I will never get too much of you"

Clara grinned up at him, her breath as quick as his own. With her eyes locked on his, she tilted her head to the side, exposing the mark that had started off small but was soon to be bigger. With that need pressing deep into his brain, the Doctor plunged his lips over the cut and took the delicious red syrup, his tongue dancing with its taste as his ears hummed with the sound of her whimpers.


End file.
